


The Adult is Talking

by hughjackman



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Iron Dad, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark is a Proud Dad, peter parker needs sleep, spider son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 08:19:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hughjackman/pseuds/hughjackman
Summary: Peter starts neglecting his health in order to study for tests he’s going to pass whether he revises or not. It’s time for Tony to step in, and he’s not happy.





	The Adult is Talking

**Author's Note:**

> So! Here’s something that came from nowhere! Please enjoy! <3
> 
> It’s set a little while after Homecoming. :)

Tired.

Peter felt tired.

Were genetically enhanced superheroes even _supposed_ to feel tired?

Well, whatever the answer to that was, it didn’t matter, because Peter Parker was utterly spent.

Ever since that – _awesome_ , if he said so himself – fight with the Vulture, not a lot had happened. He’d still been swinging around town, stopping attempted robberies and helping out this girl a couple times whose cat always seemed to get stuck in a tree…

But apart from that? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. No new intergalactic weapons had been made, no ferry had almost split in half, and there was certainly no supervillain trying to take over the world. So, as of right now, he was pretty much… mission-less.

He missed it, really. He didn’t know why. The world wasn’t in danger. He should be happy about that, right?

Except he wasn’t; not really. The weight of schoolwork and just… everything _else_ that wasn’t to do with Spiderman was catching up with him. Finals were just around the corner, and he was working so hard for them. He could tell May was getting worried about how much he was doing in preparation for them but he tried to look past it and not let it show too much.

May _knew_ that Peter was someone who revised for every test and passed each one with flying colours. She _knew_ that he pushed himself for them all, and she _knew_ that he’d often tire himself out by doing so… but this time was different. For some reason she couldn’t quite understand, that nephew of hers was pushing himself _too_ hard.

Truth was, Peter _himself_ didn’t fully understand why he was doing it. He’d been spending days and nights studying in his room for hours on end, sometimes not getting an ounce of sleep at all. Somehow, he felt a need deep inside of him to impress Mr Stark. Not that he hadn’t already with the whole Vulture thing, but he just… he didn’t know. He felt like he _needed_ to.

It was his duty, as Tony’s son- uhhh, intern…

* * *

 Peter sighed in relief as he walked through the door to his room, throwing his backpack on the bed and immediately reaching down to take his history book out. He’d managed to miss May – she must’ve been out shopping – and couldn’t help but feel extremely glad there’d be no questions about the bags under his droopy eyes, or the slight shaking of his hands, or the yawns which seemed to be escaping him like breaths…

He looked up as the sound of the Star Wars theme tune echoed around his room, and quickly fumbled for his phone in the front pocket of his bag. He grabbed it and turned it over, eyes widening the slightest bit when he saw who was calling. Taking a deep breath, the teen sat on the edge of his bed and accepted the call, lifting the phone to his ear.

“Mr Stark?”

 _“Kid, how many times have I got to tell you? It’s_ Tony _.”_

“Yes, of course! I know. Sorry, Mr- Tony.”

He heard the person on the other end sigh slightly before he spoke again. _“Mr Tony’s here asking if your aunt will let you come around for a few hours to see the updates I’ve added to your suit.”_

Peter barely suppressed sighing himself. He glanced at the history book, laying on the top of the covers. He was supposed to be revising World War II this evening – he had a test on it in a couple days – and, _sure_ , he knew practically _everything_ there was to know about it, but a couple extra hours wouldn’t hurt, would it?

_“Peter?”_

The teen shook his head, shutting his eyes for a moment before standing up and reaching for his jacket. “May’s not home, but I’ll send her a text to let her know where I’ve gone. It’ll only be a few hours, though, right?”

Tony chuckled. _“You get bored of me that easy, kid?”_ At Peter’s rush to assure him he most definitely did _not_ , he hushed him and spoke again. _“It’s okay, Pete. Yeah, only a few hours. You can leave whenever, I don’t mind. Happy’ll be at yours in about ten minutes to pick you up, alright? Be ready.”_

And with that, the line went dead. Peter groaned and threw the phone to the side. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to Mr Starks – in fact, he _really_ did – but he just had so. Much. _Work_.

Nevertheless, he grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulders, quickly typing out a message to May’s phone. He dragged a hand down his face before turning to walk out the door, trying to ignore the growing feeling that he was about to pass out.

* * *

 

“Hey, Spiderkid. How’s it going?”

Peter smiled at Tony as he walked into the man’s lab, noticing he was working on his suit. There was a huge smile on his face, his eyes were twinkling, and he just looked so… happy.

“Pete?”

The teen shook his head. _Jesus_ , he was tired.

“Yes! Hi! I’m fine, I’m, uh- I-I’m great, thanks!”

Tony frowned, screwdriver pausing in its work, watching as the teen dumped his bag on the couch in his lab and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. “You sure? You look a little tired.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Alright,” the billionaire said, but he decided he’d keep an eye on him for these few hours. He didn’t exactly seem himself. “Wanna come over here and see what we’ve got?”

Peter nodded, making his way over to Tony and his suit. He was starting to feel a little weird. Tony’s voice explaining all the new combinations of web shooter – did there really _need_ to be any more web shooters? – he’d added was passing through one ear and out the other. He wasn’t listening. All he was really focusing on was the burning of his eyes and the cloudiness that was quickly taking his vision’s place…

“Pete? Kid? _Peter?”_

Peter jumped at the hands that were suddenly shaking his shoulders. He blinked rapidly, fuzziness disappearing and vision returning to normal. “Uh, yeah?”

Tony rose an eyebrow. His hands didn’t move once from the boy’s shoulders. What was _wrong_ with him? Usually, this kid was alert as could be, excitedly asking questions and repeatedly saying “can I test the suit out now, Mr Stark? _Please_?” Today, however, he was different. His eyes were half-closed, there was a deep purple colour underneath them, he must have yawned at least ten times since he’d arrived, and he could feel him shaking beneath his hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Simple and straight to the point.

“I-“

“And don’t you _dare_ tell me you’re fine, because I’m willing to bet every last penny I have, all my iron man suits, _and_ this tower that you’re not.”

Peter’s eyes widened. _How did he-_

“Listen, kid. I _know_ you, okay? Despite what anyone has to say about it, I _know_ you. And this right here-“ he took one hand away and gestured to the depleted teen stood in front of him “-is not you.”

Honestly, Peter was too tired to even try to hide it anymore. Sure, it was pretty easy to pretend like everything was alright around May, but this was _Tony Stark_. And if there was one subject Tony Stark was an expert on, it was Peter Parker.

He turned a dejected look on the man stood in front of him, searching for the safety and comfort he wanted in his dark eyes and finding it in a heartbeat. “I’m _tired_ ,” he mumbled.

Tony paused for a moment before nodding, and in no time at all, Peter was embraced in two strong arms, pulled against a muscled chest. He felt a chin come to rest on top of his head, and he wrapped his own arms around Tony, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What’s this about, hm?” the man asked quietly, not moving at all. Peter was surprised to feel tears leak from the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t reach up to wipe them away. “Wanted to make you proud,” he replied, and if Tony’s ears hadn’t been so close to him, he wouldn’t have heard the words.

As he’d said, Tony was an expert on Peter Parker. Not in the creepy, stalker-ish way… it was the caring, _protective_ way. He knew that kid better than he knew himself. He knew his likes, his dislikes, favourite movies, favourite actors… hell, he even knew his favourite _colour_. It was red. _“Not to do with Spiderman, Mr Stark. To do with Iron Man.”_

And he knew _exactly_ when the teen had gotten his head around something and would not give up until he’d finished it.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Make him _proud?_ He was already-

“My finals are next week. Wanted to do really well do make you happy a-and to prove myself.”

Ah. _Right_. Finals. Come to think of it, Tony could remember May mentioning something of the sort a couple weeks back. Sighing, he shook his head. Peter really never ceased to amaze him. Did he not _know_ that he was _already_ proud of him? Did he not _know_ that there was nothing _to_ prove? Did he not _know_ that he would lay down his _life_ for him?

Without a second thought, Tony gently removed the teen’s arms from around his waist and stood back, taking both his hands in his own and staring him straight in the eyes. “Peter Parker,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “I know you’re tired, but you’re gonna keep awake for this, alright? You, kid, have gotta understand that I couldn’t be _prouder_ of you. Hell, you could get _zero_ percent in these finals and I’d still throw a party in celebration and invite half the country.”

Peter couldn’t help the breathy laugh at that, looking drearily at the man stood in front of him as he continued to speak.

“You’re one heck of a boy, Pete, _believe_ me. You’re the smartest person I know, the funniest, the kindest… you are amazing, and if I _ever_ hear _any_ thing about you wanting to ‘prove yourself’ – whatever that means – or make me proud, then I’m not gonna be a happy guy. You have nothing to prove to me, bud. _Nothing_. You’ve never _had_ to. From the moment I met you, I saw so much potential from someone so young it’s made me think twice about everything I’ve done since. I am _beyond_ proud of you in everything you do, _okay?_ This has got to stop. You’re drained, kid, look at yourself. From now on, you’re allowed a maximum of two hours revision every day. Two. Hours. No negotiating. Your health is paramount, alright? _Nothing_ comes before that, least of all some stupid finals that you’re gonna ace anyway whether you study or not. I’m not gonna have you pass out and give May a heart-attack. I _love_ you, Pete. I don’t even care if _Happy’s_ out there listening in. I. Love. You. More than anything, do you understand? Am I making myself clear?”

All Peter could do was nod. This time, the words were passing through one ear and lodging themselves somewhere in his brain. Tony Stark… _Tony Stark_ had just told him he had _nothing to prove._ _Tony Stark_ had just told him he was _proud_ of him. _Tony Stark_ had just told him he _loved_ him. To say he was speechless was an understatement, and it wasn’t the tiredness that was causing it this time.

“You with me, bud?”

Tony had no time to say anything more before a fifteen-year old kid barrelled into him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and burying his face into his Black Sabbath shirt. He smiled slightly, circling his own arms back around the boy and holding him. Just holding him. Because his kid was upset, and he needed to show him everything was alright.

“It’s okay, Pete,” he soothed, rubbing the boy’s back. He could feel his shirt soaking up the teen’s tears, but he didn’t care.

“I love you too, Tony,” the teen whispered.

Tony chuckled. “Who doesn’t?” he asked, glancing down at Peter to see a smile flicker across his exhausted face. Looking behind him at the clock on his desk, he saw that it was half four. “Right,” he said, moving slightly, “time for Spiderkid to go to sleep.”

Peter didn’t even protest as Tony gently pulled away from him and guided him towards the couch. He helped lay him down before quickly slipping off his shoes and draping a blanket over him.

“I’m gonna call your aunt and tell her you’ll be staying here tonight. You sleep, and I’ll be right over there working on the suit, okay?”

At the lack of response, Tony looked down. He chuckled quietly at the entirely peaceful expression on Peter’s face, soft breaths escaping his lips as he slept soundly. “Alright, Pete,” he said quietly, moving over and bending down to press a small kiss to his unruly hair, “you sleep, now. I’m not going anywhere.”

And he didn’t.

He worked on both Peter’s suit and his own well into the night before finally calling it a ‘day’.

And if Pepper came in the next morning to reprimand him for not going to sleep, and instead was met with the sight of Spiderman curled up in the arms of Iron Man on the couch, both fast asleep, she never said anything.

After all, it was Tony’s duty.

As his… mentor.

Oh, who was he kidding? As his _father_.


End file.
